


Conversations at Gunpoint

by KXL (MissKXL)



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Gen, I don't know if this'll be platonic or romantic so keep an eye on the tags?, Tags May Change, uhh...general dcmk warnings apply I suppose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-09-14 09:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKXL/pseuds/KXL
Summary: The ease with which they speak belies the tension in their trigger fingers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been saved on my computer for over a year. I'd hoped to finish the entire thing before posting it, but...since it was going to be released in chapters anyway, I figure I'll just toss this first one out now and hope I get some inspiration soon. Now that school's basically out, maybe I can get some actual work done on this....  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

There were twenty-nine windows in the building across the street that were lit up, and thirty-one that were not. Both prime numbers. Shinichi reflected on the trivial fact as he waited underneath the awning that shielded the rooftop cafeteria’s counter from the sky. It wasn’t necessarily an important fact that there were twenty-nine windows that seemingly had occupants, or that there were thirty-one that didn’t, or that both twenty-nine and thirty-one were numbers only divisible by the number one and themselves. It wasn’t important, but it was still a fact.

It was also a fact that Shinichi had been waiting on the roof for nearly – he checked his watch – forty minutes. At night. While it was raining. And the awning was only barely keeping him reasonably dry. He clicked his tongue, wrapping his thick coat more securely around his torso. Knowing his damned six-year-old immune system, he was definitely going to wake up with a cold the following morning, and Ran was definitely going to chew him out for being outside in the rain, and the old man was _absolutely_ going to go on another rant about the injustices of keeping a freeloading brat (which was getting tiresome, honestly, and it wasn’t even technically true).

He sneezed. Yep, he was getting sick. His only consolation was that his target was probably going to end up worse.

Speaking of...Shinichi’s sharp eyes detected a growing spot in the sky that was unnaturally lighter than the storm clouds that served as its backdrop. It wasn’t white, oddly – more of a dull gray, really – but at this point, Shinichi wasn’t going to worry about semantics. He fiddled with his watch, eyeing the approaching figure gliding closer and closer to the rooftop. Should he wait for him out in the open? Stay under the awning? Either way, he was probably going to end up soaked in the inevitable confrontation. Shoot first and ask questions later?

Shinichi dismissed that option the second it crossed his mind. They were enemies, sure, but Shinichi had too much respect for the other to be _that_ much of an asshole (and he’d already gotten his own back from the time he was tased, so a revenge-motive was out).

.... He’d spent too long weighing his options. Kaitou KID landed on the roof with a whisper of silk wings and some un-KID-like stumbling. Shinichi couldn’t help but wince just a bit at the thief’s condition; rainwater practically poured off of the brim of his hat, his monocle was completely fogged up, and his usually-pristine suit had turned dark from what must have been a few tumbles into street puddles. He was shivering, too, and as he crossed the rooftop with the longest strides he could manage, Shinichi could just make out the curses he was mumbling under his breath.

Shinichi took a single step forward, watch aimed squarely at the thief’s back. “KID,” he called over the hissing of the rain.

The thief spun around, nearly losing his footing on the wet concrete. His one visible eye was blown wide from shock, an expression Shinichi rarely got to see and one that gave him a brief glow of pride. KID had apparently been so out of it that he hadn’t noticed the detective hanging around. He pulled out his card gun and aimed it at the detective faster than Shinichi could track, though, so he _wasn’t_ so out of it that his self-preservation instincts were shot.

“Did you fall in a lake on the way here?” asked Shinichi with a smirk. Get the teasing out of the way, the banter and whatnot, and then he could grab whatever jewel KID had stolen and be on his way. Simply.

Except KID didn’t want to play, it seemed. “If you waited around for the gem, I already gave it to Hakuba, little detective. And to be perfectly honest, I am soaked and tired and would rather we save this for another day.” KID backed towards the door that led into the building proper, gun still pointed at Shinichi. “Surely you could grant me that decency?”

KID sounded so irritated, so unlike his usual impassive self, that Shinichi felt a stab of worry somewhere deep in his heart, so deep he was hopeful it wouldn’t show on his face. And the thief _did_ have a point, if for no other reason than they were both on the verge of ending up bedridden for days. The detective didn’t lower his watch, but he stepped back and jerked his head towards the door. “Another time, then,” he agreed. “But if I’ve found that you’ve lied about the gem –”

“When have I ever kept a single one of my targets?” KID shot back. “You know me better than that, I hope.”

“I hope,” Shinichi echoed with a slight nod.

KID opened the door and propped it open with his foot. “You’d best get home as well, detective. No reason for both of us to end up with colds.” Shinichi sneezed, and the thief flashed his first smile, albeit a strained and lowkey one. “Ah, I guess I’m too late there.”

“Get going, before I change my mind about granting you decency.”

The thief nodded. He slipped inside, but just before the door swung completely shut he held it open again. “Detective,” KID called over the rain, “thanks.”

The genuine gratitude was so out of left field that Shinichi was left standing stock-still on the rooftop for several shocked heartbeats, long enough for KID to vanish from sight. That...had never happened before. Had KID hit his head at some point during the night’s heist? He was never that... _sincere_. For that brief moment, he had become a person instead of a phantom.

The detective shook himself with a small curse. Of course KID was a person. The unflappable mask was only a mask; Shinichi had been foolish to forget that, even for a second. He’d been treating the thief as a target, unreachable but incapable of not chasing after. He’d remember that for their next encounter.

As he left the rooftop himself, he happened to glance at the building across the way again. One of the darkened rooms was now lit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thief makes a house call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reacting kindly to the first chapter. I'm sorry this took so long to get out -- I wasn't sure which direction I wanted to go, so there were a couple of false starts. But if it's any consolation, this chapter is about twice as long as the first?  
> I also realized I accidentally marked this story as complete when it's not. I'm a fool at AO3.  
> There'll be more notes at the end, but for now, please enjoy.

It was very, _very_ easy for Kaito to forget that the little detective was a real person sometimes. What with the way he presented his deductions and the fact that he was the only living person who could match Kaito in a battle of wits (except maybe his own mother, but she was never around), it was just simpler to consider the kid a weird robot and be done with it. Easier than wrapping his brain around a six-year-old being that smart.

The rainy rooftop meeting had been a sharp reminder of the little detective’s humanity. By all accounts, there was no reason for the kid to let Kaito go. He’d been prime for arresting, probably the weakest he’d ever revealed himself to be as KID -- if the detective had actually used his watch-dart or, God forbid, his soccer ball, Kaito doubted he would’ve been able to dodge. And yes, Kaito was technically still owed for that little stunt on the Bell Tree, but the detective didn’t see it that way, so that excuse was out. The kid had just...let him go.

And that didn’t sit right with Kaito. Not one bit.

Which was why he was currently staking out the house of that professor who made the detective all his little gizmos. He’d gone to the detective agency first -- in heavy disguise, naturally -- and found out that the kid _had_ gotten sick and had come to the professor’s house for special medicine. So he’d come and hunkered down in a spot in the yard that afforded him the best view of the house, because he was damned if he was leaving without figuring out _something_ about why the detective had been nice to him.

.... And also because he felt just a little bit bad about the kid being sick. God knows how long he’d been waiting on that rooftop. The least he could do was offer a gentlemanly courtesy visit. (Although he still wore a basic disguise and brought his card gun, because gentlemanly courtesy visit or not, the kid was volatile.)

Kaito had to wait for a good hour before anything of interest happened, but what happened wasn’t what he expected. He’d thought that the kid would eventually toddle out of the house and back home, whereupon Kaito could take him aside for a quick word. Simply, easy, quick. Instead, a sound emanated from within the house, faint enough that the neighbors probably wouldn’t hear it but loud enough for someone in the yard to make it out. His hackles immediately rose upon hearing it. That was a scream.

He snuck over to the nearest window as quickly as he could and peered in, but he couldn’t see much. The massive room that seemed to be a hybrid kitchen-living area was completely empty. There was a mug on the counter, from what Kaito could tell, but that was the only sign of anyone living in the house at the moment.

.... Until someone emerged from the far end of the room, having clearly just come up a staircase. It was the frowny, serious girl that was sometimes with the detective. The professor followed her shortly. Kaito ducked down and flattened himself on the earth, heart jackhammering in his chest. He probably hadn’t been spotted, but just to be safe he inched his way along the wall and around to the other side of the house. While he moved, he heard the front door open, shut, and lock. Kaito made it around the house just in time to spot a yellow Bug putter out of the gates and off down the street.

Well...he hadn’t seen the detective with them, so he was still inside. He didn’t think their meeting would go like this, but hey, Kaito was nothing if not flexible. The lock was easy pickings, and within seconds Kaito was in the building. He immediately went for the staircase. If the kid wasn’t in this room, he had to be downstairs, and Kaito sure as hell wasn’t going to waste any time when he didn’t know how long the other two would be gone.

There was only one room with lights on in the basement floor. Kaito tiptoed over and peeked inside as best he could, but the door was mostly shut and he couldn’t make out anything except that it seemed to be a mini-lab of some sort. He didn’t have a mirror on him, so he couldn’t slide it under the door to see better, either.

He had to act fast. Kaito cleared his throat as quietly as he could, then called out in his best Professor Agasa voice. “Conan-kun, I think I left something of mine in there. Do you see anything like that?”

The reaction was instant. Kaito heard footsteps shuffling, a click of something metal, and then the door flew wide and the detective was standing there with his watch aimed squarely at Kaito’s face. “I told you he doesn’t call me that when we’re alone,” the detective told him.

“That you did,” Kaito replied pleasantly in his KID voice. He remembered that particular tidbit, but it wasn’t like he _knew_ what the Professor called him, and he hadn’t yet bugged the house to find that out. With one fluid motion he revealed his card gun and lazily waved it around, leveling their playing field just a touch.

“How long have you been here?”

Something in the way he said that gave Kaito pause. There was an edge of...not quite panic, but close. He didn’t claim to know the little detective that well, but he was at least sure that he’d never heard that sort of emotion directed at him before. “If you’re asking when I entered the house, just now. I wanted to come in when I heard a scream -- that was a scream, right?” The kid’s blanching face was all Kaito needed for an answer. “I wanted to come in then, but right then the young miss and the professor appeared. Was that you screaming?”

“.... It was.” The detective spoke slowly, eyes never leaving Kaito’s face. “Haibara gave me cold medicine through a syringe...and it came out of nowhere, so I got startled.”

That sounded too thought-out to be the whole truth, but Kaito didn’t know enough to dispute it, so he let it be. “So can I come in? I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

The kid snorted, and Kaito was happy to see that he relaxed just a bit. At least he didn’t look like a cornered mouse anymore. “You broke into a house and say you’re not causing trouble?”

“You can’t prove the door was locked.”

“Lockpicks always leave traces. Even _you_ aren’t that good.”

“‘Even you,’ huh? I didn’t realize you held me in such high esteem!”

The kid’s face flushed a shade darker. Which probably wasn’t good, because upon closer inspection, he was already pretty flushed. Kaito sighed and lowered his gun a hair. “Listen, little detective, would you go sit down? For my sake of mind. You look like you’re going to keel over.”

“Since when did you care?” the kid shot back. Still, he retreated from the door, allowing Kaito access into the room.

It was indeed a mini-lab room, mostly stocked with long tables and papers and a clearly well-used computer. In fact, the only oddity was the set of clothes strewn haphazardly on the floor, clearly too big for the little detective to wear. The kid sat himself down on a spare chair near the wall and glared at Kaito, never once removing his hand from his watch.

A hand that was noticeably trembling. “You’re shaking,” Kaito pointed out with faux brightness.

The kid glared some more. “What did you come here for, KID?” he asked.

“To speak with you.” Kaito leaned against the wall by the door. He folded his arms for a second, then unfolded them again to give his gun hand plenty of room to move. Just in case. “More specifically, I wanted to ask you a question.”

The kid leveled him with a dry, unimpressed stare that Hakuba would be proud of. “And this couldn’t wait until the next heist?”

“It could’ve,” Kaito admitted.

“Then why now?”

Kaito, in response, flicked his wrist at the kid. He tensed in his chair, clearly bracing himself to leap off and shoot, but instead of finding a card lodged by his head he found a single flower lying in his lap. The sheer surprise on his face was almost comical. “.... A daffodil?” muttered the detective.

“Roses are my favorite, but I figured something cheerier would be good for a sick patient,” Kaito explained with a happy grin.

The kid’s eyes, already wide, blew further as his head jerked up to stare unbelievingly at Kaito. “This is -- you came because you were _worried_ about me?”

“Yes? You got sick because of me, and even though you’re terrifyingly smart, you’re still only six.” The detective looked peeved by that for some reason, so Kaito bulldozed ahead. “And I figured the least I could do was check that you were all right.”

That somehow only made the kid more confused, apparently. “The least you could do,” he mused. “You make house calls to all your sick ‘critics,’ then?”

“I’m insulted that you think I would ever willingly step into Hakuba’s house,” Kaito replied with affected horror.

“So how is this the least you could do?”

“You’re awfully hung up on that one little phrase.”

“Humor me.”

Kaito raised an eyebrow. The kid pointedly coughed again. Well, fine. No skin off Kaito’s back, he supposed. “You’re a special one,” he admitted carefully. His eyes slid away from the kid and to a point on the wall while he gathered his thoughts. “The only one who makes a habit of letting me go.”

“That’s not letting you go, that’s returning a favor,” the detective countered.

“Then tell me, little detective, why did you let me go last time?” A pause. Kaito’s gaze returned to the kid, who had his mouth open as though he was about to answer and then decided against it. “The scoreboard should’ve been even, right? And loathe as I am to admit it, I wasn’t exactly on top of my game. It would’ve been child’s play for you, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

The kid listened intently, although his face fell into a scowl at the last bit. Nevertheless, his reply was even and neutral. “My primary interest was the jewel, not you. And I was just as tired as you, obviously.”

“So you let a wanted criminal go because you were tired. That doesn’t sound like you, little detective.”

“And you came here to, what, punch a gift horse in the mouth?” the detective shot back. “That isn’t like you, either.”

The laugh bubbled out of Kaito’s mouth before he could stop it. “No, I guess not. But what can I say? I’m a glutton for danger.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” muttered the kid.

“Sadly, I don’t think I can do that. You know far too much.” And he’d spent too much time here to be comfortable anymore, so he pushed himself off the wall. “Well, I’ve gotten my answer, and I’m afraid this is all the time I could afford, so I’ll be taking my leave. Get well, little detective.”

“Would you stop that?”

“Hm?”

The detective’s eyes fell down to his lap, as did the hand attached to his watch. “Don’t call me ‘little detective.’ It’s insulting.”

.... Yeah, Kaito could see how the detective might not like that. “I understand. What would you like to be called, then? Great detective?”

“You know, not everyone needs a nickname. I’m starting to think you just don’t know anyone’s names.”

“How rude! I remember everyone who chases me!” Kaito huffed.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get going before the professor and Haibara get back.” The kid waved at the door. Kaito didn’t need to be told twice, so he nodded and turned towards the door. “And, uh, thanks for the flower, I guess?”

Now _that_ was a surprise. Kaito halted in the doorway and glanced back over his shoulder. The kid was staring at the daffodil in his lap. Sure, he was frowning like he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do with it -- or even what it was -- but he _had_ thanked him for it. “You’re entirely welcome,” Kaito replied warmly to cover up his brief hesitation. “Until we meet again, then.”

He shut the door the same as it had been when he’d arrived and promptly left the house. He couldn’t stop the grin from unfurling on his face, nor could he stop himself from humming a cheery tune under his breath. That teared it. Conan Edogawa was most _definitely_ his favorite detective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where this story will lead, so here's to an adventure!  
> I always welcome constructive criticism, so please feel free.  
> You can find me at my tumblr, [kxlinthesky](http://kxlinthesky.tumblr.com/).  
> I also have a Twitter, if you prefer that: [KXLinthesky](https://twitter.com/KXLinthesky).  
> Thank you very much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I always welcome constructive criticism, so please feel free.  
> You can find me at my tumblr, [kxlinthesky](http://kxlinthesky.tumblr.com/).  
> I also have a Twitter, if you prefer that: [KXLinthesky](https://twitter.com/KXLinthesky).  
> Thank you very much for reading!


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